


It was a last resort

by BeLoreful



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Broke Stiles Stilinski, Dom Derek Hale, Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom, Light Bondage, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves, Sub Stiles Stilinski, Sugar Daddy, that wasn't already a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:15:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeLoreful/pseuds/BeLoreful
Summary: Stiles is short on money, slightly desperate and a bit too suggestible for his own good - so when Scott off-handedly jokes about getting a sugar daddy, it all adds up and Stiles can't help but actually do it. Whoops.Stiles also never expected to actually like his sugar daddy, but he really really does, Derek's a great guy! Which is why he keeps feeling guilty about how much money Derek spends on him. It just feels like Derek's too nice of a person and Stiles does not know how to deal with that. At all.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 213





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles Stilinski was very, thoroughly broke. In fact, he currently had 3 dollars and 54 cents to his name. This was beginning to become a problem, well, if Stiles was honest with himself it had been a problem for a while. Not only was Stiles so completely out of cash, but he was also behind on his schoolwork and out of Adderall. Fuck. Today was really not a good day. Scott listens to him rant on the phone for half an hour before butting in,  
"Dude, do you want me to send you some money? cause I can"  
"No, I'll work it out, I wanna do this on my own."  
Scott did not seem happy with this reply. At all. Oh well.  
Perhaps he'd have to pick up a couple of extra shifts and let his grades take the dip. Would that even be enough though? What else could he do? Stiles was so zoned out that he'd almost forgotten that Scott was still talking,  
"-at this point, you might as well get a sugar daddy or some shit"  
"What the fuck, Scott"  
"What? I'm joking, dude, obviously don't get a sugar daddy."  
It was such a stupid idea, there was no way Stiles would even be able to get a sugar daddy in the first place, so it's not like it matters. Ah, shit. He was considering it. Why was he considering it? It really would solve a lot of problems... Nope, nope, not doing it. I mean, he might as well try it right, what's the harm in that?  
Stiles opens his laptop. Then he closes his laptop. He opens the laptop again and opens a new tab. Welp, here he goes. He was doing it. Stiles even put all his details in the website - well, enough of them, all would be silly. He needs a username...BrokeAssStudent probably wouldn't do, hmmm let's be self-indulgent, DistractedDoeEyedBoy. I guess now he waits. huh. He's signed up for a sugar daddy website, weird.  
Stiles flops face-first onto his bed, what the fuck was he doing. He should probably do his work, ok, right, Forensic science - here he comes! ugh. Stiles decides to forget about the website completely, at this point he probably couldn't afford to waste time on a pipe-dream of financial stability. He switches tabs back to his work, he really needed to actually start this lab report. Perhaps he should put some music on in the background? He opens Spotify and presses shuffle on one of his playlists. Now, lab report. He had the rest of the day left to it - that was fully possible.  
Stiles manages to submit the lab report a whole 12 minutes before the midnight deadline - a personal record at this point - and he falls back into his bed sound asleep.

\---

Stiles was about 80% coffee by now and his heart was Feeling It. This was his 4th coffee shop of the day, he seems to be able to do work as long as he didn't stay in one place longer than an hour and kept his music playing full volume. Stiles was typing at a speed that kept making the person sitting next to him turn around, he was getting so fucking much done!  
A notification startles him out of his trance.  
An email from the sugar daddy website, apparently he had 13 messages? 13? That was a fucking lot. Well, he sure as hell wasn't going to check them here. Should he leave? Just to check some stupid messages - nope that was dumb. He was gonna go back to his work. He exits his emails. Then spent 5 minutes staring blankly at the blinking cursor at the bottom of the page. He was an idiot. Alright, okay, he was gonna leave. Stiles stuffs his laptop into his bag and abruptly left.  
Stiles walks back to his apartment quickly, cutting the 15-minute journey down to about 10. He slots his key into the front door of his apartment and fell onto his bed haphazardly. He opens his laptop and logs back into his account. Okay, 13 messages, let's get going. First one, aw disgusting, why would someone send that? The first message was really not a good start - a dick pic, yikes. Stiles skims through the next three messages, dick pic, dick pic, disgusting message. Ugh. Does he even have to check the rest? Of course, he checks the rest anyway, yikes, yikes, yikes - hang on a minute, what's this one? Huh, there's one well-written message, by a 'TriskelionRoaming',  
"DistractedDoeEyedBoy, you mention you're a student, could I ask what you're studying?"  
Seems harmless enough, Stiles types out a reply,  
"Sure u can ask, I'll even reply! I'm a Forensic Sciences major."  
There's no reply immediately but Stiles expects that TriskelionRoaming's probably busy - not a big deal. He picks up his phone and starts scrolling through Instagram idly. Something catches the corner of his eye, he looks up. 3 little dots, fluttering at the bottom of the conversation, he's typing.  
"That's cool, how did you get into it"  
"Well, combine having a cop for a dad and morbid curiosity, ya know?"  
"Makes perfect sense, yeah"  
"What do you do?"  
"It's a lot more boring, really, I'm in real estate"  
"Do you like it?"  
"It pays the bills"  
"That's a no then"  
"You caught me! I don't hate it, and it's made my life... comfortable, so I shouldn't complain"  
"Money isn't everything to happiness, you need good people surrounding you"  
"I'm just... lonely, you could probably guess that given we're talking right now"  
"I understand."  
"Thank you, you seem like a good person"  
"If completely broke?"  
"You're a college student stereotype!"  
"You've hit the nail on the fucking head"  
Stiles and TriskelionRoaming talk until it starts to get dark and he realises that not only is sleep a thing that exists but also something he should be doing.

\---

Stiles nearly forgets to check his messages the next day, busy actually doing things he was supposed to, but he does check in late in the day. There are a couple of 'yikes' messages again which he pretty promptly ignores but TriskelionRoaming has messaged again, and they strike up a conversation about the recent season of Survivor and various other TV shows. Stiles is surprised by how much he enjoys talking to TriskelionRoaming, while it seems to be rather hampered by their anonymity - neither seems sure of how much to reveal and when. It strikes Stiles that this is probably not how most people on the website arrange a sugar daddy/baby relationship, but given he's got no fucking clue of how else to do it he keeps messaging back.  
Stiles and the anonymous TriskelionRoaming casually chat for the rest of the next few weeks discussing music and TV and films. Stiles starts to consider sharing names or even meeting up, for now though, he's kept his mouth shut. Stiles stops waiting when Triskelion decides to take the decision from his hands,  
"Hey, DoeEyed? We've been talking for a while, and I wondered - would you like to meet up?"  
"That...Sounds really good actually. By the way, I'm Stiles (not my real name but that's unpronounceable so whatever)"  
"I'm Derek"  
Stiles and ... Derek exchange numbers and agree to meet next Saturday. Stiles has a weird fluttering feeling at the bottom of his stomach - like he ate a feather and it's still whole inside of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in New York, a place I have absolutely never been to. Also featuring Stiles as a College student there - suitably vague due to my lack of knowledge.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek had said he’d be wearing a leather jacket and a dark green shirt, which meant ... he wasn’t here yet. Stiles was trying to stop his leg jittering under the table, pressing his hand down onto his knee aggressively, it wasn’t working. How could he even be sure they weren’t both here yet? Stiles checks his phone - no messages. He doesn’t put his phone away, pretending to be engrossed with something on the screen instead.  
The door opens and Stiles looks up, a man walks in - holy fucking shit, he’s hot, like model hot, probably-straight-and-would-never-look-at-Stiles-twice hot. Except, he’s wearing a leather jacket … and a dark green shirt, and he’s looking at the text on Stiles’ shirt (printed sideways and reading “you look weird with your head tilted”) and then he’s walking towards him. What the fuck.  
“Stiles?” He says gruffly,  
“Yup, that’s me, hey, hi. Derek?”  
He nods  
“Great, great..”  
“How’d you take your coffee?”  
“Latte, fucktonne of sugar, why?”  
Derek just walks off, Stiles watches him approach the counter and order, completely stumped by the actions. A couple of minutes later Derek comes back with two cups of coffee and a chocolate muffin. He plonks the latte and the chocolate muffin in front of Stiles.  
“You said before you like chocolate a lot so.,” Derek mutters  
“Oh, wow, you didn’t have to”, Stiles can’t even remember telling him that, so he’s amazed that Derek not only remembered but was nice enough to buy him something based off it.  
Derek just shrugs.  
He and Derek start sipping at their coffee and Stiles eats the muffin messily, crumbs going everywhere. Derek watches bemusedly and raises one eyebrow.  
“I really like choco muffins”   
“Really?”  
Stiles blushes heavily and nods.  
Derek chuckles softly, “Anyway, I..er... got you a gift”  
“What? A gift? Really?”  
Derek reaches down and picks up his backpack, unzipping it. He pulls out a box for a brand new pair of pretty fancy Bluetooth headphones. Stiles’ jaw nearly hits the floor at the sight.  
“Are you serious?”  
“Stiles do you know what a sugar daddy does or did you forget what you signed up for? Take the gift”  
“Right, right, yep”  
“I want to do this Stiles,” Derek says softly “I like giving people things and I’m not short on the money to do it.”   
“I know, I know, just when it’s hypothetical you don’t know how… weird it’s gonna feel”  
Derek nods mutely in understanding.

As they’re getting ready to leave, Stiles hugging the new headphones to his chest excitedly, when he gets knocked over by a man walking behind him - he tumbles to the ground. His phone clatters to the floor loudly. Derek fucking growls at the man, looming protectively over Stiles. The man - much smaller than Derek - shies away and hurries off.   
“You okay?”   
“Yeah, I’m good” he huffs.   
Stiles brushes himself off quickly and grabs his phone from the floor, the sides are slightly scuffed but overall it’s unharmed so he stuffs it back into his pocket. He looks up at Derek, who’s brows are furrowed harshly - still glaring at the back of the rapidly retreating man who’d pushed him.  
“Dude, I’m fine, chillax”  
“Stiles, don’t call me dude.”  
“That’s what you got from that?” he mutters  
“He was just such a … dickhead”  
Stiles shrugs, “That’s life”  
Derek didn’t reply - which in Stiles’ opinion was weird, ‘cause unless he and Derek were very different it was, in fact, just part of life. That’s not relevant, his brain had gone on a tangent again.  
They say their goodbyes and Stiles almost skips back to his apartment excitedly.

-

As Stiles lay in his bed, watching youtube listlessly, he decides to tell Scott that he’d taken his joking suggestion more literally than he’d intended. This was probably going to go one of only one way - he’d be dealing with a very confused, very exasperated Scott very soon.  
“Remember how you joked about me getting a sugar daddy?”  
“I don’t like where this is going...”  
“I kind of, erm, got one?”  
“Nope, nope, you’re gonna tell me your joking, and you’re gonna do it now”  
“......”  
“You’re serious?”  
“Yup!”  
“Are you sure this is safe? What if the guys secretly a serial killer! Did you think this through at all? Stiles? STILES?”  
And then Scott starts shouting, Stiles doesn’t hear what he saying because he’s too busy holding the phone away from his ear and cringing. The other end of the call finally quietens down and Stiles holds the phone back to his ear, he can hear the sound of some very very heavy breathing.   
“Scott?”  
“You’re not going to continue with this are you?”  
“Urm”   
“STILES!”  
“Look I’ll take steps to make sure I’m safe, but I just don’t really… want to stop?”  
“I want to talk to this guy, in fact, I fucking wanna meet this guy!”  
“Scott, that’s impossible - you live on opposite sides of the country”  
“Ok, ok, but I still want to talk to him, okay”  
“Tell me you’re not gonna shovel talk him”  
“Stiles, buddy, If you want me to lie to you-”  
“AArghh!”  
Scott cackles into the phone.  
“Not but seriously, I want to talk to hi-”  
“Yup, yup I get it. I’ll talk to him”

Stiles decides to warn Derek in advance of Scott’s shovel-talking intent before he gives Scott his number and tries not to think about the conversation that’s going to happen between the two. He’s very successful in forgetting about Scott and Derek, busy chatting over text to a friend from his labs for the next few hours - so when he gets a text from Derek he almost drops his phone in surprise.  
Derek’s messaged a screenshot of his and Scott’s conversation - which basically boils down to Scott threatening violence of various methods (all extreme) if Stiles feels even vaguely upset and Derek reassuring that that wasn’t going to be necessary and failing to get Scott to stop coming up with increasingly violent threats.

-

Derek had messaged asking that they talk about what Stiles wanted out of the arrangement moneywise so now they’re sat opposite each other in the diner, either side of the giant stack of pancakes sat in front Stiles.  
“I know you’re a broke college kid, but is it tuition you’re struggling with or something else?”  
“No, no, tuition’s covered - it’s rent that’s…”  
“Are you behind on rent or do you just not have the money for the next month?”  
“No, no, I’m not behind”  
“Ok, so I’ll pay your rent and then we can discuss an allowance”  
Stiles almost feels like Derek wouldn’t let him say no to this arrangement so he just nods his head and tries not to let how surreal the experience is show.  
“I’ll set up a standing order into your account for rent tomorrow, okay Stiles?”  
“Uh-huh”  
“Are you going to eat your pancakes?”  
“Oh,” Stiles looks down, “I’d kinda forgotten they were there?”  
Derek chuckles briefly, it’s a nice sound and Stiles can’t help but hope he’ll laugh again soon. Huh, that’s a weird thing to think, especially about Derek.  
Stiles finishes his pancakes and milkshake a long while after Derek had polished off his own fried eggs on toast and black coffee, Stiles had slowed down considerably by the last few sips of his milkshake and was stubbornly trying to fit more into his full stomach.  
Derek pays the bill again, Stiles isn’t surprised this time and just lets him do it.  
“Can I walk you home?”  
“Uh, sure, Dude”  
“Again, don’t call me dude”  
Stiles pouts, only semi-sarcastically.  
About five minutes into their walk it starts to rain heavily, Stiles gets drenched to the bone within seconds. They have to run back to Stiles’ apartment building, jackets held over their heads desperately.   
They fall into the lobby hurriedly and utterly dripping wet. Stiles peers through the glass door, the rain doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. The clouds seem so gloomy, Stiles waits to hear thunder expectantly and sure enough, a boom sounds from outside.  
“Do you want to come up to my apartment?”  
“If that’s okay with you?”  
They take to the stairs quickly and Stiles fumbles around in his jean pockets for his keys and then he lets them in with a clunk as the door bangs against the wall. Derek looks around, it’s not a shabby place but it certainly wasn’t fancy.   
“Do you want a cup of coffee?”  
“Sure, why not”  
Stiles switches on the coffee machine and pulls out two mugs. As Stiles opens the fridge to grab the milk for himself, Derek can see how little food he actually has. The fridge only has the milk that Stiles has just taken out, two Red Bulls and a packet of sausages at the bottom. Stiles goes to close the fridge door but Derek sticks his hand out and keeps it open.  
“Jesus Christ Stiles, when’s the last time you even licked a vegetable?”  
“It’s not usually this bad?”  
“Why is that a question.”  
Stiles just shrugs. Derek closes the fridge door and leans against the fridge with his eyes shut,  
“How are you still alive?”  
“Instant noodles?”  
Derek really does not seem to like the answer,  
“Are you busy tomorrow?”  
“No?”  
“Good, I’m taking you grocery shopping.”  
Stiles doesn’t object and Derek smiles warmly at him. The rain doesn’t ease up even during the next few hours and Derek has to order an Uber. Stiles spontaneously hugs him before he leaves, Derek tenses up at first but eventually, he relaxes into the hug and strokes up and down Stiles’ back comfortingly.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles has started to receive Derek’s money into his account. Stiles is able to concentrate better on his studies - dropping his shitty fast-food job with Derek’s encouragement - he’s eating better (mainly because Derek’s decided to check in every few days to make sure his fridge is fully stocked with healthy foods). Derek is very much on the “actually getting Stiles to eat a balanced diet” train so Stiles knows that when Derek invited him to dinner at his place late Tuesday, he’s going to be plied with plenty of vegetables. Sure it’s nice to invited but if he’s honest to himself, he’s slightly nervous that Derek’s place is going to be really fancy and he won’t be able to relax. He’s got this image of himself standing awkwardly in Derek’s doorway, overwhelmed, and he can’t get it out of his head.   
Stiles is not used to actually having money, he’ll look at a price, assume he can’t afford it and then do a double-take when he remembers he can. And while he isn’t completely over the residual guilt of taking Derek’s money he’s starting to realise that his life is getting a hell of a lot easier and if Derek wants to give him money then he might as well take it. The other day he realised his shoes were coming apart at the seams and almost jumped for joy when he remembered that he could actually go and buy a new pair of shoes. The pair he does buy is identical to the pair he just lost except, well, cleaner. Maybe he’s the only one that would even notice the change but he’s giddy every time he spots them out of the corner of his eye. He shoots off a quick picture of them to Derek and gets a reply within seconds if he’s honest Derek’s much happier about his new shoes than he’d expected, even adding a little smiley face unexpectedly to the end of his text. 

-

It’s a very dreary Thursday and Stiles is pretty desperately trying to catch up on lectures he’d missed in the library, completely curled over his laptop uncomfortably and his elbows keep cramping up every time he tries to take notes. The coffee he’d drunk was keeping him awake but it also had his heart beating at a speed that was kind of concerning. A few unsuccessful hours in he gets a text from Derek,  
“You busy?”  
Ahh, he wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway, might as well reply. He unlocks his phone and types out,  
“Not really, why?”  
“Wanna come have lunch with me?”  
Lunch? It wasn’t lunchtime it was only 10 am! He double-checks the time just in case - you can never be too careful, whoops, it’s 12:30. He really hadn’t got anything done. He messages back his agreement and Derek says he’ll pick him up in 10 minutes. Maybe he should attempt to do a little bit more work? He restarts the lecture recording and leans into the screen, acting as if it’s the eyesight that’s the problem. Hang on a minute - he should take of that, no chance of remembering it otherwise. A buzzing from his pocket interrupts his thought. Oh, his phone? Oh fuck. It’s a call from Derek, how’d he forget so quickly? He just grabs all his stuff haphazardly, not bothering to put anything away and rushes out of the library trying not to fall down the stairs as he does it. He answers his phone as soon as he’d left the library,  
“I’m sorry I’m late, I’m outside the library now, I just got into my work suddenly and I forgot so quickly, where are you-”  
“Stiles.” Derek’s right in front of him.  
“Oh, hey Derek”  
“Wanna get in?” He opens the passenger door to his car - ooh a Mercedes, fancy. Stiles dives in, clutching his bag and laptop to his chest while he did it, and crashes (thankfully butt-first) into the seat. Derek climbs easily into the driver’s seat and waits and watches while Stiles haphazardly stuff his laptop into his backpack.  
“What?”, Stiles gestures vaguely at Derek’s expression.  
“Is that good for a laptop”  
“I’m definitely not the person to answer that.”  
Derek just hums in reply.  
The two of them don’t get anything too complicated for lunch, opting instead for a hipster bagel place that Derek likes and sitting and talking on a bench.  
Derek’s dropping Stiles back at his apartment when he brings up Stiles’ laptop-in-backpack situation again,  
“Do you want a laptop bag?”  
“Err, I hadn’t really thought about it I’m not sure?”  
“I’m getting you a laptop bag.”  
“Ok?”  
“You mind if we go now?”  
“No?”  
Before Stiles can even blink him and Derek have arrived at one of them shops that’s just for bags/luggage, the type Stiles hasn’t ever glanced twice at nevermind actually going into. Derek makes him browse to see which is his favourite but he’s got no technical knowledge,  
“They all look like laptop bags?”  
“Just pick one that’s in your favourite colour maybe?” Derek suggests bemusedly.  
“Right, yep, can-do”  
Stiles points out one of the cheaper ones that’s in a light blue and Derek insists on one that’s more expensive in the same colour, the card says it’s even waterproof which will probably come in useful.  
“Like it?”  
“Yeah, it’s really nice,” Stiles can’t help but blush, “thanks”  
Derek smiles and reaches out as if to ruffle Stiles’ hair but instead he just weirdly pats him on the head.

-

Stiles has only been back in his apartment for half an hour when trips over the laptop bag. To be fair he’d been tired when he’d come in and it’s a small place, plonking it on the floor by the door wasn’t actually that big of a deal, right? Ouch, he’d really hurt his butt when he did that, ooh and his hand when it had hit the door. Stiles looks up and tries to centre himself for a moment.  
Oh shit, oh shit. Oh no, he no longer has a door handle. Can he even leave now? He scrambles at the doorframe for a minute before realising that there was no way in hell that was happening.  
Stiles goes and gets his phone and starts dialling,  
“Derek, erm, yeah hi, well I kinda tripped over and broke my door handle off?”  
“What?!”  
“Yeah… Do you know anyone that could help, I really don’t know what to do?”  
“Is the door unlocked? I could come and fix it.”  
“Really? That’d be great. I think I locked it though?”  
“Just chuck me the key, it’ll be fine”  
Derek arrives 45 minutes later and catches the keys that Stiles chucks out his window perfectly. When he gets into the apartment he takes two looks at the screws that had been on the door handle and declares them ‘unimaginably rusty’.   
As Derek gets to work fixing his door handle, Stiles gets bored pretty quickly and picks up the wrench from Derek’s toolbox and starts fiddling around with it idly. Once Derek successfully reattached his door handle to his door he glances at Stiles and sighs,   
“What are you doing, Stiles, why don’t you just - Ouch”  
Stiles looks up guiltily and gingerly put the wrench down. Was that blood? Oh, fuck how’d he do that? As Derek had started to move his hand to get him to put the wrench down, he’d continued to wave it around and, somehow, Derek’s finger must have caught in the tightening bit.  
“Are you alright? Was that blood? Do you mind if I take a look at it, I’ve got plasters-”  
“I’m fine.” he answers gruffly.  
“Oh. You sure?”  
Derek doesn’t even answer, just half-heartedly nods. It’s really weird, is he annoyed at him? Sometimes it’s really difficult to tell what Derek’s feeling and he’s left feeling a bit odd at the unexpected reaction on Derek’s side, oh well, best to try and shrug it off anyway probably doesn’t mean anything.  
“Wanna stay for dinner?”  
“What are you making”  
“Ooh, I hadn’t really planned yet? Creamy mushroom pasta sound good? Not allergic to anything, right? I feel like I’d probably know already.”  
“Nope, no allergies you’re good”  
“Good, good”  
Once the food finished, they sit down in front of Stiles’ laptop and watch Netflix for the next few hours.  
Soon Derek’s saying that he has to go back to his own place to sleep and standing up reluctantly, before he’s gone anywhere Stiles almost keels into a hug, letting Derek hold him up. Stiles tilts his head up towards Dereks and leans in impulsively to kiss him. Derek abruptly stops him midway through,  
“Don’t feel like you have to, Stiles, I know I’m paying for all these things for you but trust me I’m just doing that because I want to not because I think you owe me anything. I’m not going to stop paying for anything if you don’t want to have sex with me..”   
“Oh, no, I err just … wanted to kiss you?”  
“Oh.”  
“Is that ok?”  
“Oh, err, yeah”  
Stiles smiles and leans back into the kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day later than I'd expected, I'll be honest, kinda forgot you actually have to finish writing the chapter to post it


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles came over for dinner that Tuesday, using google maps to find the way to Derek’s loft so that he doesn’t get thoroughly lost. Derek’s place was big, but rather sparsely furnished - so it seemed like it was mostly empty space. Derek had said he’d owned the apartment for a while but Stiles looks around and it looks like Derek had only been there a few weeks, it’s as if he’d moved in and never bothered to decorate.  
Derek ushers him towards the kitchen as soon as he’s through the door, Stiles had hesitated in the doorframe unsure whether to leave his shoes on but Derek hadn’t paused long enough for him to wrestle them off so he’s awkwardly trudging behind him into the kitchen with his Converses only half-laced.  
“I’m making stir-fry, that sound good?”  
“Oh, yeah, sounds great!”  
The kitchen doesn’t have a dining room, that would be too much to ask of a New York apartment, but it does have one of those breakfast bar type things, that Stiles’ little studio wouldn’t have space for. The stir-fry is already sizzling, mostly-done on top of the hob, and Derek’s started fishing boring slate-grey plates out of the cupboard and setting them out onto the surface. Stiles clambers up onto one of the stalls and lets his feet dangle down casually as Derek starts to serve up for them both. They eat in silence for a few minutes before Derek asks,  
“Do you like it?”  
“It’s really good!”  
Derek’s silent for a good minute and then he says,  
“Hey, Stiles?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Do you err, wanna be my boyfriend?”  
Stiles feels a smile split his face and a blush run hotly up his neck then over his cheeks,  
“Yeah I do”  
Derek shoves his plate to the side and leans over the countertop, he cups the side of Stiles’ face and tilts it upwards so their lips touch briefly and softly. Stiles surges upwards, opening his mouth slightly as he does so and he and Derek start making out slowly. The two of them only stop so that they can breathe and then Derek is tilting Stiles’ chin back up towards him and they resume. It doesn’t go any further than them making out like they’re teenagers again but when they do stop, Stiles still feels like he’d worked out and has to pant until he can breathe properly.  
He looks down and spots his recently abandoned stir-fry and Stiles can’t help but giggle at the sight.  
“We were halfway through the meal!”  
Derek looks at his own plate and chuckles as well,  
“Want to sit on the sofa to eat the rest?”

They relocate quickly to the sofa as they finish the rest of their meal, Stiles gradually sinking into the cushions as time progresses. As they sit there in slightly mellow silence, Stiles comes to an uncomfortable realisation that while being Derek’s boyfriend is in most ways ideal, there is one issue that is complicated by it,  
“We should probably figure out the money situation, right?”  
“I don’t want to stop giving you money, Stiles.”  
“Yeah, but won’t that complicate our dynamic. I want to be on an even playing field with you.”  
“I want that too but you still need the money, to be honest. If I did stop would you even have the time to properly date me?”  
Stiles is silent for a minute, deep in thought.  
“No, you’re right, I’d be busy all the time. I don’t know what we should do, and, well, it is your money. In some ways, I really don’t want to be reliant on my boyfriend’s money just in case.”  
“I know there’s a risk for you in a more intimate relationship with me.”  
“Yeah, I just… don’t know how we’re going to navigate that.”  
“Can we continue with our current money situation for now and talk about it more later on?”  
“Sounds good, just as long as it’s on our radar, ya know?”  
“I mean, it’s only really the rent that’s your problem, ideally you’d move in here” Derek muses  
Stiles gapes at him, lost for words.  
“Oh, I, um, don’t mean now, necessarily, we’ve only just decided on dating - that’s too fast, I get it”   
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready for that?”  
“Well, anyway, could you stay here for a sec, I’m gonna get something - it’s connected - I’ll be back?”  
“Err, ok?”  
Derek walks off and Stiles watches him round the corner out of sight confusedly. It only takes Derek 30 seconds to return and he sits down facing Stiles, looking rather nervous,  
“Stiles, I want to give you something, even if you don’t want to move in here I do want you to feel comfortable here so... um,” Derek reaches into his pocket “here you go?”  
Holy shit he’s holding a key,  
“You’re giving me a key?!”  
“Yeah? Do you not want it?”  
“No, I’d like it, I just really did not expect this, wow.” Stiles blushes as he speaks  
“You okay?”  
Stiles nods, obviously embarrassed.

-

A week later, Stiles had asked if Derek wanted to hang out and got a depressingly resounding no and some spiel about being busy - on a Monday night? He and Derek hadn’t spoken since they’d had dinner last week except for the occasional text and it was starting to bother Stiles more than he’d anticipated. He spent the rest of his night trying not to think about it and wasting time on the Internet when Tuesday morning came rolling uncomfortably around. His lack of sleep was really not helping him think straight about the Derek situation at this point, and with nothing to do he was getting bored, agonisingly bored. Ok, let’s think options; first is doing some work in advance (nope, not happening), or Netflix if there’s something good he hasn’t watched, ooh Youtube, maybe? He spends what feels like half an hour scrolling and looking at thumbnails without actually clicking on any videos before he gives up and tries something else instead. He goes to his kitchen and he paces from one end to the other over and over and over again. Opens the fridge, closes the fridge, looks at his spice cabinet - hmm he’s kinda running out of chilli powder he should put that on a shopping list. Where is the shopping list? Did he put it on the fridge? Yup, it’s on the fridge, time to write down chilli powder!  
What now? Oh, fucking hell this was getting old. He’s just gonna pick one thing, and then he’s going to stick to it.  
Stiles doesn’t, in fact, manage to pick one thing and stick to it. What he does do for about three hours is pace back and forth, switch aimlessly from thing to another and stay incredibly bored. He even starts to consider actually talking to Derek about how he’s feeling but the text he shoots off (“Hey Derek, have you been avoiding me this week, ‘cause that’s kinda what it feels like?”) goes completely unread, nevermind being answered. Stiles lay down on his sofa lengthways and tried not to stare at his phone waiting for a notification, he chucks his phone down onto the cushions and sticks his hands into his jean pockets. His hand hits something cold and metallic in his left pocket and Stiles screeches in shock. Stiles pulls it out of his pocket - oh, it was just a key, oops. He must have slipped it into his jean pocket after Derek had given it to him and forgotten about it. Stiles stares at the key for a minute. Huh, he’d had this the entire time, some part of him wanted to go and use the key now, take Derek up on his offer. Derek had said he was welcome anytime… and he’d even seemed to mean it!   
Before Stiles had even really stopped to actually consider what he was doing and think it through, his legs were moving under him and he was leaving his apartment with the key to Derek’s stuffed back into his pocket. It doesn’t take that long to get to Derek’s place so soon he’s standing outside the building debating whether to continue upwards. The debate doesn’t last long, he’s already come this far and even if it’s a bad idea he won’t let himself stop now. He climbs up the stairs two at a time, almost sprinting up them.   
Derek’s front door is an imposing solid black as he approaches, he rings the bell at first and waits for an answer that doesn’t come. No surprise there, really. He leans his head against the door briefly, breathing heavily against the wood. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out the key and lifts it unsteadily to the keyhole, hands shaking badly as he slots it into place and then turns the key in the lock.  
Where even was Derek? Oh, fuck this was weird, who wants to invite themselves into someone else place, especially when they’re not even there. Stiles tiptoes through the apartment quietly and there’s still no sign of Derek,   
“Derek, you here?!” he shouts  
There’s no reply but the gurgling of the central heating. Huh. Stiles reeaallly did not think this through. He looks around again unsure, and as he thinks about his options he ambles over to the sofa and flops down.  
Around 10 minutes later, Derek wanders in, taking the fire escape up to his loft so that no-one will see him in his beta-shift, and then he starts, he spots Stiles sitting on his sofa, mouth hanging open staring at him.  
“What the fuck!”  
Oh shit, he was still half-shifted. He shifts back suddenly, feeling the blood rush through his ears madly, and then he just stands awkwardly in the doorway opposite at Stiles,  
“Stiles?”  
“Holy shit, What the hell was that. Fucking Christ!”  
“Erm..”  
“Derek, what the fuck was that!”  
“I didn’t think you’d be here, I said I was busy..”  
“I’m sorry, I know you said you were busy and I should have listened. I think I’m going to... go home, I - I don’t know what to think”  
“Stiles, wait, let me explain what that was first.”  
Stiles halts and turns back around to face him,  
“Ok?”  
“You might not believe this but… I’m a werewolf.”  
“A werewolf”  
“Yeah.”  
“I need to sit down.”  
Derek ushers him back onto the sofa worriedly.  
“Why do I believe you?”  
“...probably because you’ve already seen some of it?”  
“Right, right.”  
“What do you think?”  
“About the w-werewolf thing?”  
“Do you hate me?”  
“What? No.. why would I?”  
“Oh. Are you sure?”  
“Yeah, I mean I still want to be your boyfriend, it’s just been a bit of a shock, really.”  
Derek sits down next to Stiles and Stiles starts giggling at him.  
“What?”  
“Looks like it’s been a shock for both at us”  
Derek just slumps back into the cushions and nods vaguely as Stiles cants into his side comfortably.


	5. Chapter 5

Both of them have the weekend completely free and so Stiles was spending the available time lounging around Derek’s apartment and generally bugging him. He’d recently perfected the art of hugging someone at the most inconvenient time possible and was putting it into practice while Derek attempted to make them lunch. Eventually, Derek just picks him up and carries him until he can drop him, butt-first and giggling, onto the sofa.  
“I’m trying to make your food! You - you gremlin.”  
“But I was boorrreedd...”  
Derek glares at him meaningfully before he walks back into the kitchen, unfortunately for him, this does absolutely nothing to dissuade Stiles and when he manages to catch his breath and stop giggling he gets up, fully prepared to repeat the process. The kitchen door is closed behind Derek but there’s no lock on the door so Stiles has a clear path back to mischief. He pushes down the door handle and tries to swing the door open, it doesn’t budge. What the…?  
“Derek? What’s in front of the door?” He shouts  
“The freezer!”  
“How the fuck did you do that?”  
“Werewolf”  
Stiles bangs his head against the door and mutters  
“werewolf”   
He hears a chuckle from the other side of the door, right - Derek can hear him. He leans his head onto the door and tries to breathe through his laughs. Only five minutes later there’s a loud bonk and the sound of Derek grunting as he presumably moves the freezer, the door swings open and Derek finally lets him in.   
Stiles comes in and sits down while Derek just crosses his arms and looks at him suspiciously, still expecting mischief. It takes a couple of minutes but Derek does eventually sit down and start eating as well - not that he seems to trust Stiles to behave even while he’s sitting opposite from him - perhaps Stiles’s attempts at an innocent look are backfiring.   
“Why’d you look so suspicious, I’m just eating!”  
“Gremlin”  
Stiles looks him straight in the eye and just shovels a spoonful of rice into his mouth as if this proves his innocence - sure he’s probably not convincing Derek but nothing wrong with trying, right? He stares at Derek accusingly the entire mouthful of food but Derek executes one of his poker faces flawlessly, not letting a chuckle pass through. The entire meal quickly becomes a game between the two of them - neither certain of the rules nor whose winning.   
Once they’re finished eating, the two of them settle onto the couch and Stiles is pulled onto Derek’s lap despite half-heartedly struggling away. Derek - the bastard - then seals the deal by sticking a hand in his armpit and tickling him. Stiles shrieks and jolts forward, batting him away while Derek laughs at him. Stiles shuffles around in his lap to look at him and immediately pouts as pitifully as he can manage - his only reply is a chuckle and Derek leaning forward to kiss the pout off of him.  
Stiles gets really into it and soon Derek can see a tent in the front of his pants, Derek shimmies a hand down and pulls down the fly - Stiles groaning loudly as his dick springs up. Derek doesn’t bother pulling down Stiles pants, instead, he pulls away the elasticated waist and sticks his hand down the front. Stiles is having trouble thinking and as Derek slowly strokes his hand up and down he has to grip Derek’s forearms solidly.  
Stiles moans loudly against Derek’s neck, rapidly hardening in Derek’s fist.   
“Shh, Stiles, I’ve got neighbours”  
“Sorry”  
Even as Stiles nods against him, Derek readjusts his grip, and he can’t help but gasp out. He’s loud, louder than he can ever remember being. A hand wraps over his mouth as he’s shushed again, Stiles’s cock jumps in Derek’s hand at the feeling,  
“Hmm, you like that?”  
Stiles doesn’t reply, just lets out a muffled “urngh”, which is pretty obviously a resounding yes. The heat and weight of Derek’s hand rests on his lips, not quite oppressively but demandingly.  
“Be good and quiet, and we can continue, okay?”  
“I’ll be good” he mutters  
“I know you will”  
Derek’s other hand reaches up and strokes Stiles’ hair comfortingly as if silently praising him.  
He thrusts down stutteringly, hips jerking wildly. Oh fuck, fuck it feels so good. It’s so much.   
Derek continues to stroke up and down and then gradually his strokes start to speed up and Stiles desperately ruts into his hand, head thrown back. Sometimes when he thrusts forward he can feel Derek’s own erection through the fabric and he has to stop himself from moaning too loudly, the feeling so foreign to him that it surprises him each time.  
Every time Derek strokes up, Stiles starts to thrust downwards, developing a rhythm. Each thrust resonates within him, dragging him closer and closer to the edge.  
“I’m-I-” Stiles stutters out  
“Come on Stiles, you’re so close, good boy”  
The words hit that hidden part within Stiles and he’s whimpering as quietly as he can manage.  
Suddenly pearly white strips spurt out and coat Derek’s hand. He’s juttering in Derek’s hold, as his orgasm runs all through him. He slumps forward into Derek’s shoulder, breathes puffing rapidly into the fabric of his shirt. Stiles looks like he’s going to fall asleep so Derek slips him onto the couch and takes care of his erection on his own. Eyes focused on Stiles’ panting form. 

-

Today is their first official “we like each other in a romantic way” date and Stiles almost wants to put a note in his calendar so that he’ll remember the date but realises quickly enough that that’s probably a step too far. To be fair to him their first date as boyfriends definitely means a lot - it’s a landmark.  
Derek’s taking a while to get ready, so Stiles is left in the hallway just looking around, there’s a picture of his family on the wall that he’s never noticed before now, it’s old and unexpectedly yellowed - and all the kids are wearing awkward early 2000s fashion. He hasn’t seen any other pictures of Derek’s family in the apartment so he stares at it curiously, slightly on tip-toes to get a better look. The bottom left corner is damaged, slightly blackened and curling upwards, it seems like - no - is it burnt? Stiles can’t keep looking at it now, something in his stomach is curdling.   
A door closes from within the apartment and Stiles turns around to see Derek approaching,  
“You ready?”  
“Shoes.” Derek points to a row of his shoes that sit next to the door.   
“Oh, right.”  
While Derek leans down to put on his shoes, Stiles has to concentrate on looking anywhere but the photograph, it hovers there in the corner of his vision enticingly. When Stiles meets Derek’s eyes, he’s tilted his head inquiringly,  
“You good?”  
“Yup, just a bit distracted”  
“Let’s go”  
They exit and as they walk Stiles feels some unexpected nerves. They’re even doing the whole ‘dinner and a movie’ shebang! Well, movie and a dinner in this case but whatever. He’s shaking and it’s honestly difficult for him to place how much of that is nerves and how much is the fact is fucking freezing outside and he was dressed as if he still lived in California.

They get an hour into the movie before Stiles realises that he couldn’t tell if it was good - not in a complicated ‘oh it was so nuanced’ way but more a ‘he wasn’t really paying a lot of attention so he wouldn’t know’ kind of way. Derek doesn’t seem all that interested either, preferring to surreptitiously sling one arm over the back of Stiles chair when he yawns - a move so stereotypical that Stiles spends a few minutes stifling a laughing fit. The pair sit through another hour or so watching disconnected and now out of context fight scenes before the credits begin to blessedly roll.   
Dazedly stumbling out of their seats and then thrust into the fluorescent lighting of the car park, they attempt to re-orientate so they can actually arrive at the restaurant in time for Derek’s booking.   
“Also, I meant to ask, fancy is this place gonna be?”  
“Err...”  
“Derek? It’s really fancy, isn’t it?”  
“Yup”  
“I am not dressed for that” Stiles glanced down at his outfit. Well, at least his shoes are in good condition.  
The restaurant is Italian, fancy, and really really busy. When they get their menus, Stiles winces visibly at the prices. 30 dollars for a pasta dish? What do they do to the food to make it cost that much?  
“Don’t worry too much about the prices, okay? I can afford it, that’s why I took you here”  
“Right…”  
Stiles still ends up buying the second cheapest dish, it's partly an accident and partly because he can’t make himself get anything more expensive. Derek doesn’t comment, but he obviously knows what Stiles was thinking while ordering.  
They chat casually over the complimentary bread platter, waiting for their food to arrive.  
It’s when the food is actually in front of them and they’ve started eating that Derek clears his throat and asks,   
“Stiles, can I tell you something?”  
“Yeah?”  
Derek takes a minute to think. Then he starts to speak again.  
“I think it’s probably time I should tell you this so, here goes. When I was 15 I met a woman, she’d just moved and started teaching English at my school. I thought I loved her, even though she was so much older and a hunter. It was like we were star-crossed lovers, a werewolf and a hunter falling in love. We were sneaking behind my parent’s backs, I knew they’d never let me date her. I’m meant to be at swimming practice but we’d met in a hotel room and she tells me she wants to meet at my house, so I tell her how to get in, where we leave the spare key - everything.”  
Stiles’ eyes widen, horror sinking into him,  
“Hunter?”  
“Werewolf hunter, yeah.”  
“Shit.”  
“Yeah, exactly. Anyway, one evening I’ve gone out to grab some milk and when I come back I can see smoke billowing through the trees, more smoke than I’ve ever seen before. When I get back the whole place is on fire and I can smell gasoline and mountain ash so I know it wasn’t an accident…”   
“Your family?”  
“My sisters’ both survived, my uncle’s been in a coma ever since, but my parents…”  
“They’re dead?”  
Derek nods.  
Stiles doesn’t say anything to comfort him, words, he’s found, don't really do anything in this sort of situation. He rests his head on Derek’s shoulder and strokes his thumb over the back of Derek’s thumb in the hope he can give him some solace.  
Stiles had had the feeling that Derek’s fear of Stiles discovering him being a werewolf was deeper than Stiles had originally thought, thinking back on the conversation that he’d had with Derek there was something … unsettling about Derek’s reaction. That all meant Stiles had had an inkling of what happened, but hearing the truth of the matter said out loud and so matter-of-fact, Stiles felt sick.  
“Fuck” he muttered, there were even tears gathering at the sides of his eyes.  
“Hey Stiles, it’s okay now, no need to cry”  
“I’m sorry, god, it’s not even my family, I don’t know why I’m..”  
“I get it.”  
Stiles can’t stay on his side of the table, he gets out of his chair and walks around the table to hug him.  
“I’m sorry”  
“It’s not your fault”  
“No, but I’m still sorry it happened to you”  
Derek is silent, now looking out the window, brows furrowed heavily.  
Stiles lets him brood as he goes back to his seat and tucks into the slice of chocolate cake set in front of him. Derek’s lost in thought for a while, his own dessert going cold in front of him while Stiles stares at him and tries not to fiddle with his cutlery.

-

Stiles hasn’t gone back to his own apartment in three days, half of his stuff is already at Derek’s place and Derek has started to refer to his apartment as ‘their’ apartment. So when Derek comments that Stiles “has basically already moved in” while he watches him brush his teeth in Derek’s bathroom, it doesn’t exactly come as a shock.  
Stiles spits out the toothpaste, brushes the back of his hand over his mouth and says,  
“Wanna make it official?”  
“You want to move in?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Good.”  
Derek walks further into the bathroom and wraps his arms around Stiles from behind, he sinks his nose into Stiles’ hair briefly and then leaves and returns to his bedroom, leaving Stiles to try to finish brushing his teeth around his smile.  
Stiles joins him in the bedroom, jumping onto the bed and bouncing. He smiles up, Derek smiles back. Derek reaches down the bed, and pulls him into his arms,  
“I’m glad you’re moving in.”  
Stiles hums against his chest, idly agreeing.   
There’s an air of contentment as they get ready for bed. Derek’s soft smile warms him up from the inside out every time he catches a glimpse of it. He clambers into the bed and under the covers, watching Derek do the same moments later. Cold toes brush up against Derek’s thighs as Stiles rolls closer to him.  
“How bad is your circulation? Jesus, your toes feel like ice”  
“It’s not my fault they just do that”  
“It’s not like it’s not your fault, you could improve it, exercise for once, hmm?”  
“Noooo I don’t wanna”  
“That’s what I thought,” Derek chuckles, “so it is your fault, huh?”  
“I have no idea what you mean,” he replies imperiously.  
Stiles tucks himself into Derek, folding into the spaces he’s left behind so they’re touching from almost from head to toe and slowly falls asleep.

When Stiles wakes up he’s at the edge of the bed, arm slung over the edge of the mattress and there’s loud snoring from behind him indicating that Derek is very much still asleep. Rolling over groggily, he glances at Derek’s slack face and tries to stifle a giggle. Eurgh. Need Coffee. He chucks a blanket ‘round his shoulders, finds a pair of socks and shuffles into the kitchen. Derek’s coffee machine beckons him, sitting sleek and black on the countertop. As he sits and watches the machine do its magic, he can’t help but think about their conversation yesterday, now that he’s made his mind up he can’t help but want to move in as soon as possible. He decides to put the thought to the back of his mind as he sees Derek shuffling blearily into the room. He grabs a pastry for each of them and bungs them into the microwave to warm up. Derek slumps onto a stool at the kitchen island and mumbles something, probably “coffee” - Stiles guesses. The microwave beeps and Stiles collects their breakfast. When he turns back around he can see Derek fumbling with the coffee machine and leaves him to it, grabbing his own cup and sitting down to eat. Slowly Derek gets more and more awake and acts more and more like a person rather than a blob.  
Just when Stiles had nearly forgotten about it, Derek bring up him moving in,  
“So would you want a moving company, or should we just do it ourselves?”  
“No point in a moving company, is there? I don’t have a lot of stuff and it’ll only take a couple of trips in your car”  
Before they can discuss it more, Stiles looks at the time and realises he has to get ready for class and he rushes back into the bedroom and has to gather any pieces of his own clothing he can find - in the end, he gives up leaves the apartment with a pair of Derek’s socks and one of his hoodies.

-

In the end, he and Derek start moving him out of his old apartment only a week later, bundling boxes of Stiles’ stuff into Derek’s Camaro. Derek does most of the lifting work but he lets Stiles do enough that Stiles doesn’t really feel mad about it. When all the boxes they can fit are in the car, Derek drives the few blocks to his place and unloads the car on his own, while Stiles ships as many boxes as he can down the stairs to wait for him. Like he’d predicted it only takes two trips to get all of his stuff into Derek’s place  
Stiles looks around his empty apartment, it suddenly seems a lot smaller - he can’t almost believe he spent the best part of 8 months living in these few rooms, especially after living in a whole family house with just him and his Dad. Derek and him start the search for anything left behind. Stiles finds a stray tea towel in a cupboard in the kitchen and a shirt he was sure he’d lost.  
Derek’s looking around Stiles bedroom when he walks in, pulling a very familiar see-through box out from underneath his bed. Shit. He’d forgotten about that. The leather handcuffs are very obvious even from where Stiles is standing in the doorway, and it’s right about now that Stiles is regretting buying such a large purple dildo.  
“It’s not what it looks like??”  
”You’re not kinky?  
Stiles doesn’t know how to answer that, he stutters for a bit and then says “....no?”  
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I get it, it’s not just you that’s got some kinks.”  
“You do?”  
Derek chuckles,  
“Stiles, we met on a sugar daddy website”  
“Huh, good point.”  
“We’ll put this in my car and talk about it later, ok?”  
Stiles nods.  
Derek exits carrying the offending box under his left arm a bit too casually.

It takes another two days for Derek to bring the box up again, walking into the living room with a couple of forms printed out and plopping them down onto the coffee table. Stiles leans over to look at one, sees the word ‘praise kink’ and blushes hard.  
“What are these?”  
“You fill out what you like, I fill out what I like and then we work from there.”  
“Ok”  
Stiles stares at the form for a few seconds before he reaches for a pen and starts to fill it out. Jesus fucking Christ this is detailed. There’s plenty of kinks listed that Stiles is certain he’d rather not try but throughout them all, there’s quite a few he at least wants to try. Derek’s finished filling out his form a couple of minutes before Stiles is and Stiles starts to fidget under Derek's gaze, attempting to muster up the courage to tick the boxes. Eventually, he’s finished and Derek scoops up his form and lines it up next to his.  
“Now we see where we line up - and no judging, ok?”  
“Yup, yup uh-huh”  
The more intense painplay options are struck off the list pretty quickly - neither particularly interested in caning or anything of its like. Derek and him differ on the subject of paddling - Stiles has found that he really can’t cope with any pain other than a hand spanking. As they get further down the list Stiles starts to feel a lot better about the whole process. A couple of minor kinks they differ on but they find a good overlap.  
“So what now?”  
“We work out the finer details, safewords, when, where.”  
Before Stiles can even think about it they’ve agreed that Derek’s gonna spring a scene on Stiles sometime within the next week. Derek stands up, ruffles Stiles’ hair and leaves him sitting slightly shell shocked on the sofa. Huh. That really hadn’t been as big of a deal as he’d been expecting.   
The forms are still sitting limply on the coffee table, contents spread wide for the world to see, Stiles shuffles them together and picks them up. Should he chuck them away? No. That seems wrong. The kink box would do well so he walks into the bedroom, fishes the box out from under the box and slides them in under everything else.  
Now he guesses he’ll just wait for Derek to start the scene. He feels a shiver go up his spine. God. Just the thought of it is making him shiver, he feels like it’s his first scene again. He feels about as nervous as he did then. When he and Lydia had first started to get kinky he’d been anxious about just having sex, perhaps because they were young and had dived straight into without anything as formal as a negotiation, so saying he’s as nervous as then is really saying something. 

-

The next few days sees Stiles constantly on edge, glancing over at Derek whenever they’re in the same room expectantly, the first few times Derek just chuckles at him but after that, he ignores Stiles’ eagerness altogether and moves on with whatever he’s doing.   
They’re watching some trash television idly together when Derek reaches over and grasps Stiles’ wrist in one large hand and asks,  
“Colour?”  
“Green” is murmured back.  
“Good boy”  
Derek reaches into one jean pocket and pulls out a silk sash, he wraps it gently around one of Stiles’ wrists and then the other, repeating the action a few times before tying a knot at the back of Stiles’ hands. Stiles wriggles, feeling the soft fabric slide between his wrists.  
“Can you stand up for me Stiles?”  
Stiles stands and Derek starts to help him out of his jeans, sliding them down his legs and helping him balance so he can take each foot out of the legs. He’s stood up in his boxers and shirt, hands tied behind him, Derek shifts him slightly to the left until he’s directly in front of him.  
“Sit down, darling”  
Stiles sits down, and Derek shuffles him back onto his lap. Stiles can feel the length of Derek against his ass, he’s hard. Stiles can feel his own dick taking an interest and he squirms slowly. His hands are trapped between him and Derek's chest and the feeling of the silk on the insides of his wrists makes him groan. Stiles hears the sound of a belt jingling and he looks round to see Derek undoing his fly and starting to slip his boxers and jeans down his hips. Derek has to move him forward on his lap to move his jeans further down and take his dick out. Stiles leans back, putting his head on Derek’s shoulder and a large hand reaches up to cover his eyes.  
It feels so good, so safe, that he can’t help but gasp out loud.  
“That feel good?”  
“Uh-huh”  
“Want to feel even better?”  
“Yeah, please, please”  
He hears the click of a bottle opening, and Derek slips his hand down the back of his boxers, fingers teasing at his pucker,  
“You want this?”  
“Green, yeah, please”  
Derek takes his hand out and it returns coated with lube, fingers probing slowly at Stiles’ hole, inching leisurely in. Finally, a finger slides deeper into him and it’s quickly joined by another. One finger lightly brushes over his prostate and Stiles can’t help the moan that comes out.   
“More, please, Derek, more…”  
“Okay, baby, okay.”  
Derek speeds up the strokes against his prostate, edging him closer and closer to finishing.  
“Can I fuck you, Stiles?”  
“Uh-huh, yeah please”  
Derek manoeuvres Stiles in his lap, slipping his fingers out of Stiles and lining him up over his dick. Slowly he sinks into him, moaning loudly into his ear. Stiles thrusts back, seeking more and more.   
“Please, please” Stiles pants  
Derek starts to thrust up to meet him as Stiles moves down. He’s so close, can feel an orgasm simmering deep inside of him, a warm hand is gently wrapped around his dick and he thrusts harshly into it, panting. Derek stutters and moans behind him and Stiles can feel the world going white behind his eyes as they orgasm together.  
Stiles is pulled off him and turned over so that his hands can be released. The two of them slump into the cushions, still breathing heavily. He twists around so the two of them are side by side. The line of warmth beside him is undeniably comforting even as they’re so sweaty. Stiles looks up at Derek and can’t deny the fact that he’s … happy, truly happy. He breaks out into a smile and shimmies up to kiss Derek softly on the lips.  
“What?”  
“I just, I love you.”  
Derek stares back at him, “Really?”  
“Yup”  
“I love you too.”  
“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god this chapter took a long time to write. hope you guys like it! There's still an epilogue to go but that should be a lot shorter and won't take as long as this did (gotta be honest though no promises)


End file.
